


A Risk Worth Taking

by heeroluva



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Asexuality, Beginnings, Exhibitionism, Fluff, M/M, Nipple Play, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-13
Updated: 2012-04-13
Packaged: 2017-11-03 14:57:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/382603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heeroluva/pseuds/heeroluva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Mycroft began this relationship with John, he hadn't planned for it to become... more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Risk Worth Taking

Mycroft had never had a lover like John before who let him take his time, to explore and watch and take note of John’s reactions to what Mycroft did to him. John never rushed him even when Mycroft could tell that he wanted to. There wasn’t a bit of him that Mycroft didn’t know, but there was always something new to learn: the smoothness of his skin where his hair thinned into nothing, the thick curls of hair under his arms and between his legs, the dusting of it that covered his chest and limbs, and the calluses that were thick on his hands telling the tale of a man used to hard work.

The lightest of touches across John’s collarbones enticed shivers. Unexpected strokes along his sides and feet caused John to jerk away from Mycroft’s hands, giggles bubbling from his lips. His nipples were sensitive, almost painful so, and on the times that Mycroft brought him off by stimulating them alone, John flinched for days afterward at the simple brush of cloth across the over stimulated flesh.

Talking of Sherlock while in bed with John had at first brought a flush to his cheeks, but now it only caused his cock to rise. Mycroft was not jealous, not worried that John would be unfaithful. Even if it had been in John’s nature to stray, he knew that John felt nothing for his brother beyond deep friendship and that his brother had no interest in sex at all. There was nothing wrong with fantasizing; Sherlock, after all, was an attractive man.

John couldn’t come from anal stimulation alone. Even when milking his prostate until his cock dripped angrily, his balls drawn up tight as he begged for touch, John couldn’t find release without stimulus to his nipples or cock. Mycroft had taken great delight in watching John’s reactions the one day that he’d convinced him to wear a plug out and about. It was big enough that there was no forgetting it, no getting used to it as John’s muscles were stretched and every movement was a reminder. After dealing with Sherlock’s knowing smirk and glib jibes, John had told Mycroft never again. But the next time Mycroft suggested it, months later, John had agreed with nary a protest.

Their relationship had not begun so easily though. When Mycroft had approached John the first time, he’d scoffed and thought that Mycroft was having one over on him. But Mycroft was not so blind to the way that John looked at men, though he denied any interest. No strings attached. John didn’t have to do anything he didn’t want to. In fact, Mycroft had preferred for him to do nothing. It was to their mutual benefit, Mycroft had concluded before he’d made his decision to approach John. Mycroft couldn’t admit to himself even then that he might have fallen for his brother’s best friend.

Mycroft wasn’t all that interested in sex himself, but he had a bit of an obsession with touching, categorizing and analyzing how someone, specifically a lover, responded to his touches. Maybe it was a bit of a power thing as well, knowing that he could make someone respond like this, and knowing John in a way few, if any, had ever taken the time to explore.

But as Mycroft had predicted, John had eventually agreed. At first John had had a hard time remaining passive, but with the help of some bindings, he’d learned. He had tried to hide his scars, shying away as Mycroft had explored the damaged flesh, ashamed of it, thinking it a weakness and ugly. Mycroft had shown him otherwise, pointing out wryly that if there was anyone that was ugly, it was he.

Mycroft hadn’t expected John’s anger at his self-depreciation, hadn’t truly considered the possibility that John had done this out of any real attraction. It was a shock to learn that he was wrong. John did not fault him for his lack of muscles or the extra weight he carried around his waist when the rest of him was so thin. John quite liked it actually, and took great pleasure in shocking Mycroft with compliments as he showed him how much he liked him just the way he was.

Their first kiss had been a spectacular failure as Mycroft had shied away from John’s tongue, much too wet. The next they both learned from, using lips and teeth, but rarely tongue. That was reserved for other things. When John asked to touch him in return the first time, Mycroft had been unsure, but finally given in. It hadn’t taken long before it was too much, and to Mycroft’s relief when he asked John to stop, he did without a protest.

It got better with time and practice, as John began to learn what Mycroft did and didn’t like, where the hard limits laid and which he could slowly push at. Mycroft had never had a lover that wanted to take the time to get to know him like that, and Mycroft was grateful and amazed, and possibly a little enraptured by John.

Sherlock took amusement out of the whole thing, though his jealousy showed when Mycroft monopolized too much of John’s time. Sherlock had never truly learned to share, but at least his complaints were less overt after the first time John railed on him for whining. 

For once Mycroft had not had a plan in place, not considered this as a possibility. He hadn’t intended for it to go past the physical, but looking back Mycroft wasn’t sure how he missed it, so far in denial of what he might feel that he hadn’t even allowed himself to reflect on the possibility. John had become shockingly important to him, dangerously so.

Not all of the distance between Mycroft and his brother was the result of Sherlock’s rivalry. Being in his position, Mycroft had many enemies. Caring was not an advantage in his line of work. And he did care, more than he dared to admit aloud. So when he slowly started pulling away, being inconveniently busy when they were supposed to go out, trying to put some distance between them, Mycroft should have expected John to dig in his heels and fight back. But like all things in this relationship, Mycroft was beginning to expect the unexpected.

John was certainly no idiot, and while he didn’t know the extent of what Mycroft did, he could guess enough to know that it didn’t make Mycroft the most popular man with some people. He hadn’t entered the relationship blindly, he’d known the risk and made the choice. So when John rounded on him one night at Sherlock’s apartment, Mycroft had no reply in place.

Sherlock’s laughter earned him two glares but he didn’t care, enjoying the show.

And John wasn’t done yet. “I chose you. Eccentricities. Danger. All of it. My choice.”

Sherlock made a sound of disgust as John suddenly kissed Mycroft, but neither of them cared.

It might not have been the wisest thing that Mycroft ever did, but he decided it was worth the risk.


End file.
